I knew that when starting this whole thing and I said that I would make a post every night or day..however as I foresaw I did not keep true to my promise. There has been a lot going on in my life, I was given two large cichilds which are big orange fish and a 36 gallon tank. To transport the tank and the fish I had to put 20 gallons of water in a bucket for them. I then put the fish in a small cooler and sat with them on my lap the 30 minute car ride home. I had intentions to put the fish in a bag, however, one of the bags broke so they had to just be loose in the cooler. I hoped they would do alright, they were scared but they made it.
I have had the tank set up for a few days now and the fish are doing great! They make a great addition to my room and I'm starting to like them..and their creepy little faces. I'll post pictures soon!!
Until next time,
Emilie
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
The Morning Hours
The morning hours are the greatest hours. Everything is calm and everything is quiet, if anything you hear the gentle hum of cicadas or the subtle tremble of a leaf where an animal has past. There is a warmth to this, each nostalgic breeze that reminds you of growing up, the smell of autumn of pumpkins and cooling weather of fallen leaves and 'the road less traveled'. Everything has a smell, every season, every emotion, every feeling all come with a distinct marvelous smell.
It's beautiful to walk at night, to feel as though you've lived forever. As though you and this incredible peace are the only things living. The world renews every night, flushes all the toxins that it can, all the waste we produce because we do produce a lot and now it has the chance to be simple, free. Freedom isn't even the best word but if it is, it's an unsurpassed kind of free a freedom I don't have words for just feelings and smells and sounds.
Take the opportunity, go outside...just sit don't take a phone, ipad whatnot. Just take your body and your emotions, that mind we have is more complex, unstoppable, more beautiful than any device with a screen, any phone, anything that thinks for us and so many people have forgotten that it's there. You're free in your head, that is your freedom your inimitable, incomparable, unparalleled, beautiful, beautiful freedom. So take the time to acknowledge it, revel in it. Learn to love and treasure what's yours and never let it leave you.
I've attached my favorite fall song, I highly recommend listening to it, it truly is beautiful.
Sliding Down - Edgar Meyer, Bela Fleck, Mike Marshall
Until next time,
Emilie
It's beautiful to walk at night, to feel as though you've lived forever. As though you and this incredible peace are the only things living. The world renews every night, flushes all the toxins that it can, all the waste we produce because we do produce a lot and now it has the chance to be simple, free. Freedom isn't even the best word but if it is, it's an unsurpassed kind of free a freedom I don't have words for just feelings and smells and sounds.
Take the opportunity, go outside...just sit don't take a phone, ipad whatnot. Just take your body and your emotions, that mind we have is more complex, unstoppable, more beautiful than any device with a screen, any phone, anything that thinks for us and so many people have forgotten that it's there. You're free in your head, that is your freedom your inimitable, incomparable, unparalleled, beautiful, beautiful freedom. So take the time to acknowledge it, revel in it. Learn to love and treasure what's yours and never let it leave you.
I've attached my favorite fall song, I highly recommend listening to it, it truly is beautiful.
Sliding Down - Edgar Meyer, Bela Fleck, Mike Marshall
Until next time,
Emilie
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Ramblin'
Maybe it’s now that I have realized I am content, with the bitterness of the future and the ever returning past. I think it is now we learn that dreams are thickly distributed and very seldom come true. And still we continue to dream, before I would only ask questions and over time I proved there isn't always an answer, nothing is ever just right or wrong, I've found that my dreams compared to reality is a brick wall compared to a pile of rocks, the rocks being my reality. Meaning my dreams are stronger and more put together, my reality has been shattered and is unstable, and this I believe is why we continue to return to our dreams, our fantasy. We all need something strong to lean on. In truth I am scared, for those who have lost their brick wall it remains and torn and tattered as their reality, and I’m scared because they mask it, because they know it was something they cannot rebuild, I pity those that have no brick wall, they say that love knows no boundaries and neither does hate, and it is a true gift to learn to shrug off anger, it is those I envy that can realize life is to short for hate. In saying that I believe the true meaning of life is open to those who really want to find it, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that we all know where to find love and happiness and joy, but there are options, and sanely I would never choose fear and hate, disloyalty and doubt, over love, happiness and joy, then I realize sanely the decision takes no thought, then I remember, through time and experiences this world can easily morph the mind and make one go insane.
Morning Chicken Routine
When I wake up early which is seldom, I am soothed by the horrifying sounds of frightened chickens. My house is situated maybe a mile from downtown and I hear the usual trains and sirens and the regular chirping of birds. However, my plant-loving, photograph-taking neighbor has the most beautiful gardens and herbs and fish pond, and a really, really unique chicken coop made from recycled materials that's filled with three little clucking devils.
I guess I wouldn't be too bothered if they sounded like real chickens, at least then I could pretend I was on a farm somewhere but these..these chickens sound like they are constantly watching friends and family getting slaughtered in the most brutal way imaginable and I'm not saying that as a joke they sound absolutely petrified. I don't know if they're hungry or naturally annoying or maybe passing a really big egg..I'm not so sure how chickens work. I just know these are loud and obnoxious and unlike any chickens I've ever heard in my life.
Buck-Buck-BUH-GAWK!!
Until next time,
Emilie and Chicken neighbors
I guess I wouldn't be too bothered if they sounded like real chickens, at least then I could pretend I was on a farm somewhere but these..these chickens sound like they are constantly watching friends and family getting slaughtered in the most brutal way imaginable and I'm not saying that as a joke they sound absolutely petrified. I don't know if they're hungry or naturally annoying or maybe passing a really big egg..I'm not so sure how chickens work. I just know these are loud and obnoxious and unlike any chickens I've ever heard in my life.
Buck-Buck-BUH-GAWK!!
Until next time,
Emilie and Chicken neighbors
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Enjoy the Universe
I'm thinking I really enjoy sharing poetry. If you're reading these I cannot thank you enough!
Enjoy the Universe
The Sparrow sings in the morning,
And though he weaves through the trees
His song is not forgotten
But it slips,
into the falling petals of the dogwood trees.
Enjoy the Universe,
Enjoy each passing moment that flits by like a
wounded butterfly,
Don’t reach out,
Don’t touch it..just let it slip away
To watch it die is the only way to assure its life
It’s wings are too fragile and they beat so fast
But it doesn't last
This place it doesn't last.
Enjoy the Universe
Enjoy every little thing you have because it will be gone.
Faster than you can recognize its value,
Enjoy the Universe
Every little bit that you see,
Because you will never see it all
and take your boat,
with a splintered mast and tattered sails and push
it out to sea…
And rejoice
Even if it should break rejoice
Because you
You know how to swim..
Enjoy the Universe and do nothing else..
The Sparrow sings in the morning
And though he weaves through the trees
His song is not forgotten
Enjoy the Universe
The Sparrow sings in the morning,
And though he weaves through the trees
His song is not forgotten
But it slips,
into the falling petals of the dogwood trees.
Enjoy the Universe,
Enjoy each passing moment that flits by like a
wounded butterfly,
Don’t reach out,
Don’t touch it..just let it slip away
To watch it die is the only way to assure its life
It’s wings are too fragile and they beat so fast
But it doesn't last
This place it doesn't last.
Enjoy the Universe
Enjoy every little thing you have because it will be gone.
Faster than you can recognize its value,
Enjoy the Universe
Every little bit that you see,
Because you will never see it all
and take your boat,
with a splintered mast and tattered sails and push
it out to sea…
And rejoice
Even if it should break rejoice
Because you
You know how to swim..
Enjoy the Universe and do nothing else..
The Sparrow sings in the morning
And though he weaves through the trees
His song is not forgotten
Tomato Soup
Tomato Soup
It was a Sunday like most and she walked to the store for a can of
Tomato soup
A kid two isles over bumped into her leg with his cart
He didn't apologize, and she was mad at him.
She picked up the last gallon of milk
Then put it back and grabbed the pint
Skim, organic with an expiration date she’d never reach
She stood in a line to pay for her things,
The old woman in front of her was buying cat food and cheddar cheese
And she laughed at her because she was somehow pathetic and strange,
She locked eyes with a boy in the front of the store,
They were blue and bright, he had cropped blonde hair and a brilliant smile,
Maybe she could talk to him when she was done here.
She was next in line but the cashier ignored her, instead she devoted attention to the terrified screams outside.
People ran everywhere and some came into the shop, for shelter and safety.
There’s nothing more painful than listening to a grown man beg for his life from a stranger who’d gone crazy and decided he’d ‘had enough’
She watched them plead for one last look into the brown-edged photos in their wallets.
People laugh and they joke about death but when it’s staring you in the face,
And you feel its warm breath on your cheeks
You can hardly think at all and your mind is like a bad book with all its pages out of order
And you can’t control what comes next.
In those few moments she tried to take everything back, trying to remember what she did this morning where she left her laundry. She tried to take back her cynicism toward the woman and her anger at the boy, she continued to ask herself why she didn't grab the gallon when she knew she could drink a full gallon and she got the store brand when she should have gotten the campbells.
But she didn't.
It’s not safe inside anymore,
The pristine tiles are no longer clean.
Her eyes followed the boy, he was fit and handsome and about her age,
With kind eyes and a blue collared shirt,
She hid with him behind a shelf,
They were quiet, she and this boy whom she’d never met but they smelled the same,
They smelled of fear and words the two of them would never again utter.
He turned to her, a stranger, and confessed that he’d never loved a woman.
Cans of beans and corn that litter the shelves of lovers and families alike topple over onto them
But they don’t move.
Instinctively they clutch each other’s hands and sweat pools in their palms
But they don’t move.
The footsteps that seem to control the store eventually call for them, he’d never loved a woman but in that moment he made the choice to put him between her and the edge of insanity.
She saw that his shirt tag was flipped up and his wallet was sticking out of his back pocket.
So she tucked his tag and touched his shoulder and felt the air leave his lungs for the last time.
She was alone.
The last sound she’d ever hear was echoed by sirens that were just a little too late.
It was a Sunday like any other and she walked to the store for a can of
Tomato soup
It was a Sunday like most and she walked to the store for a can of
Tomato soup
A kid two isles over bumped into her leg with his cart
He didn't apologize, and she was mad at him.
She picked up the last gallon of milk
Then put it back and grabbed the pint
Skim, organic with an expiration date she’d never reach
She stood in a line to pay for her things,
The old woman in front of her was buying cat food and cheddar cheese
And she laughed at her because she was somehow pathetic and strange,
She locked eyes with a boy in the front of the store,
They were blue and bright, he had cropped blonde hair and a brilliant smile,
Maybe she could talk to him when she was done here.
She was next in line but the cashier ignored her, instead she devoted attention to the terrified screams outside.
People ran everywhere and some came into the shop, for shelter and safety.
There’s nothing more painful than listening to a grown man beg for his life from a stranger who’d gone crazy and decided he’d ‘had enough’
She watched them plead for one last look into the brown-edged photos in their wallets.
People laugh and they joke about death but when it’s staring you in the face,
And you feel its warm breath on your cheeks
You can hardly think at all and your mind is like a bad book with all its pages out of order
And you can’t control what comes next.
In those few moments she tried to take everything back, trying to remember what she did this morning where she left her laundry. She tried to take back her cynicism toward the woman and her anger at the boy, she continued to ask herself why she didn't grab the gallon when she knew she could drink a full gallon and she got the store brand when she should have gotten the campbells.
But she didn't.
It’s not safe inside anymore,
The pristine tiles are no longer clean.
Her eyes followed the boy, he was fit and handsome and about her age,
With kind eyes and a blue collared shirt,
She hid with him behind a shelf,
They were quiet, she and this boy whom she’d never met but they smelled the same,
They smelled of fear and words the two of them would never again utter.
He turned to her, a stranger, and confessed that he’d never loved a woman.
Cans of beans and corn that litter the shelves of lovers and families alike topple over onto them
But they don’t move.
Instinctively they clutch each other’s hands and sweat pools in their palms
But they don’t move.
The footsteps that seem to control the store eventually call for them, he’d never loved a woman but in that moment he made the choice to put him between her and the edge of insanity.
She saw that his shirt tag was flipped up and his wallet was sticking out of his back pocket.
So she tucked his tag and touched his shoulder and felt the air leave his lungs for the last time.
She was alone.
The last sound she’d ever hear was echoed by sirens that were just a little too late.
It was a Sunday like any other and she walked to the store for a can of
Tomato soup
Fish can take a Lesson from Cats
Any proud owner of cats knows that they love to lay in the sun, in boxes, in boxes in the sun, on a freshly made bed or in box on a freshly made bed in the sun. Upon making my bed today each of my lovely cats jumped up to my bed and laid there. This is momentous due to the fact that they NEVER get along. My youngest Finnegan patronizes my old Calico Annabelle and my middle child, Fiona (the tabby) enjoys personal space and will not hesitate to attack an intruder in her bubble. However, today the stars aligned and the cats enjoyed a few moments of peace together on a freshly made bed in the sun.
Although, they might have only been acting this way because feeding time was juuuust around the corner.
But I can enjoy it while it lasted.
Until next time,
Emilie
Although, they might have only been acting this way because feeding time was juuuust around the corner.
But I can enjoy it while it lasted.
Until next time,
Emilie
Hope for Uther
I got a new fish today. Sadly he's being bullied. He's a bristlenose Plecostomus. I'm not sure how it's pronounced but I said pleh-cost-toe-mus but the fish lady said plee-cus-tah-mus. Whatever. I like him, supposedly he gets on with all fish, just like tetras are supposed to do, however my tetras immediately began to nip at him and bite him as though he were a piece of food. I have a picture of him..though it's not very good quality.
And here's my creepy tetra, looming ready to strike.
v
I've named him Uther and I hope he survives and grows to his full length which is 4 inches, he'll show those tetras then. I've posted on several forums trying to find a way to help them get along, the tank is fine they should be able to coexist in a 29 gallon tank, the temperature and pH are also spot on! I hope this is just a small bump and that soon Uther and my terrible Tetra King Henry VIII will be the best of friends! After all they were both brutal rulers, one fictional of course!
Check back for more information on dear Uther!
Until next time,
Emilie & Uther
And here's my creepy tetra, looming ready to strike.
vI've named him Uther and I hope he survives and grows to his full length which is 4 inches, he'll show those tetras then. I've posted on several forums trying to find a way to help them get along, the tank is fine they should be able to coexist in a 29 gallon tank, the temperature and pH are also spot on! I hope this is just a small bump and that soon Uther and my terrible Tetra King Henry VIII will be the best of friends! After all they were both brutal rulers, one fictional of course!
Check back for more information on dear Uther!
Until next time,
Emilie & Uther
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Prune Practices
..that ought to be prohibited..
Like..blogging just to blog. Because that's what I'm doing, rapidly fueled by lack of sleep and excitement that I have one of those wonderful things (A blog).
So I figured out how to do line breaks, it's pretty momentous and deserves a post.
Now things don't look all jumbled together and unorganized..I'm going to go back and fix my other posts..so if you want to see 'em while they're ugly go do so now...
Okay.
Until next time,
Emilie
Also, I really hate leg cramps.
Like..blogging just to blog. Because that's what I'm doing, rapidly fueled by lack of sleep and excitement that I have one of those wonderful things (A blog).
So I figured out how to do line breaks, it's pretty momentous and deserves a post.
Now things don't look all jumbled together and unorganized..I'm going to go back and fix my other posts..so if you want to see 'em while they're ugly go do so now...
Okay.
Until next time,
Emilie
Also, I really hate leg cramps.
As Promised..A Poem Dedicated to a Fish
Oliver Although I was afraid to admit it,
That fish was symbolic of my life in more ways than one.
When pressed with change, or met with the ever present future,
He couldn't handle it.
And given one last opportunity to make amends,
Pick up again, and figure out where things were going to go,
He jumped.
One last glorious display, an inviting stretch of energy to finish what he started.
Then he landed, cold, color fading. Flopping breathlessly in the dusty corners of my life.
We both went back to start.
Back to the places we tried to free ourselves from and everyone around us swims, oblivious to our pain.
His scales are starting to rot, he seems to be shedding them like a snake would skin.
Underneath that, a beautiful, beautiful fresh start that he will never live to see.
I tell myself, he’s just a fish and he’s just a fish I eat them every day,
But he’s less of a fish and more of me, and I watch him.
I watch him struggle to stay afloat and I wonder why he’s still alive.
Why he won’t eat, and why he won’t just give up.
Then I remember he’s less of a fish and more of me, and I won’t give up.
I pour countless remedies and medicines in his water but he’s gotta want it too.
I want him to get better, so that I leave this with some metaphoric hope that my life too, will change.
And I see him and wonder what he’s fighting for, if fish had a sense of family, that’s gone. If they had any tangible emotion, any feeling they could reach this fight would have reason. Maybe it’s a survival instinct, but it’s incredible and I can’t remember the last time I fought that hard for anything.
I just watch him breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe, each flap of a gill, knowing only that he is still alive.
Maybe that’s all I need, I need to breathe and breathe with the knowledge that I too, am still alive.
That fish was symbolic of my life in more ways than one.
When pressed with change, or met with the ever present future,
He couldn't handle it.
And given one last opportunity to make amends,
Pick up again, and figure out where things were going to go,
He jumped.
One last glorious display, an inviting stretch of energy to finish what he started.
Then he landed, cold, color fading. Flopping breathlessly in the dusty corners of my life.
We both went back to start.
Back to the places we tried to free ourselves from and everyone around us swims, oblivious to our pain.
His scales are starting to rot, he seems to be shedding them like a snake would skin.
Underneath that, a beautiful, beautiful fresh start that he will never live to see.
I tell myself, he’s just a fish and he’s just a fish I eat them every day,
But he’s less of a fish and more of me, and I watch him.
I watch him struggle to stay afloat and I wonder why he’s still alive.
Why he won’t eat, and why he won’t just give up.
Then I remember he’s less of a fish and more of me, and I won’t give up.
I pour countless remedies and medicines in his water but he’s gotta want it too.
I want him to get better, so that I leave this with some metaphoric hope that my life too, will change.
And I see him and wonder what he’s fighting for, if fish had a sense of family, that’s gone. If they had any tangible emotion, any feeling they could reach this fight would have reason. Maybe it’s a survival instinct, but it’s incredible and I can’t remember the last time I fought that hard for anything.
I just watch him breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe and breathe, each flap of a gill, knowing only that he is still alive.
Maybe that’s all I need, I need to breathe and breathe with the knowledge that I too, am still alive.
Who am I? WHO am I?!?
That was supposed to by Mushu from Mulan.. Anyway, I figured I can't just make a vague, uninformative post without really telling you who I am. As I stated my name is Emilie, I'm the proud owner of 17 animals. Fear not, 13 of them are fish. I own a 29 gallon fish aquarium but they absolutely terrify me. They're beautiful to look at but I had one jump and I panicked, froze. I don't want to touch them, I don't want to touch them. As indifferent and nonchalant as I made that sound the jump had a big impact on me...I even wrote a poem about it. Keep reading for the poem!!! (See what I did, that's called tactic..)
Anyway, the remaining animals are cats and I love them. Fiona, Finnegan and Annabelle. Here's a snap of Finnegan and I. I found my orange fluff-ball about a year ago in a parking long, at four months. The vet concluded his mother and remainder of his litter were killed by dogs, as evidence by the dog bite that afflicted his rear leg. Nevertheless Finn has recovered and is as lovely as ever!
He's basically the greatest cat I could possibly ask for.
I live in my own world, which is a suburb of a North Carolina city. I like to write and read and bake things. I really, really want to claim I have a green thumb but that is a lie, I have neither the patience or the materials needed to make a beautiful garden, instead I'll admire my neighbors' gardens.
I am currently not in college, though I should be. When I tell people they seem to think I'm some sort of idiot or loser..I mean I might be..it's pretty stupid to forego college, but it's not forever. I do plan on enrolling sometime soon to earn a degree in elementary education, and in my classroom I'll have a fish tank and if a fish dies one of the students will remove it because I can't.
I could waste your time talking all about my fish and naming them but I'll name my favorite..Fatty, Fatty is a Gourami and a 'Walmart Survivor' she was a lovely Walmart fish and a gift...along with three other fish who were sadly DOA. Fatty has been going five months strong now and she eats like crazy and I would definitely cry if she died.
I guess like anyone I enjoy doing silly things and looking silly and not wanting to deal with the repercussions of my actions or deal with the responsibility of the looming future. Instead I spent hours creating what I called 'Equestriationary', a mouth-full I know that was probably my folly, it was a combination of equestrian and stationary..basically envelopes with horses. I listed them on Etsy and no one bought them so that was that...I'll probably give them to..relatives or something..
That's me in Sepia because arguably everyone looks happier in sepia.
Well that's all for now! Please don't forget to do my completely irrelevant poll at the bottom!!
Until next time,
Emilie
Anyway, the remaining animals are cats and I love them. Fiona, Finnegan and Annabelle. Here's a snap of Finnegan and I. I found my orange fluff-ball about a year ago in a parking long, at four months. The vet concluded his mother and remainder of his litter were killed by dogs, as evidence by the dog bite that afflicted his rear leg. Nevertheless Finn has recovered and is as lovely as ever!
He's basically the greatest cat I could possibly ask for.
I live in my own world, which is a suburb of a North Carolina city. I like to write and read and bake things. I really, really want to claim I have a green thumb but that is a lie, I have neither the patience or the materials needed to make a beautiful garden, instead I'll admire my neighbors' gardens.
I am currently not in college, though I should be. When I tell people they seem to think I'm some sort of idiot or loser..I mean I might be..it's pretty stupid to forego college, but it's not forever. I do plan on enrolling sometime soon to earn a degree in elementary education, and in my classroom I'll have a fish tank and if a fish dies one of the students will remove it because I can't.
I could waste your time talking all about my fish and naming them but I'll name my favorite..Fatty, Fatty is a Gourami and a 'Walmart Survivor' she was a lovely Walmart fish and a gift...along with three other fish who were sadly DOA. Fatty has been going five months strong now and she eats like crazy and I would definitely cry if she died.
I guess like anyone I enjoy doing silly things and looking silly and not wanting to deal with the repercussions of my actions or deal with the responsibility of the looming future. Instead I spent hours creating what I called 'Equestriationary', a mouth-full I know that was probably my folly, it was a combination of equestrian and stationary..basically envelopes with horses. I listed them on Etsy and no one bought them so that was that...I'll probably give them to..relatives or something..
That's me in Sepia because arguably everyone looks happier in sepia.
Well that's all for now! Please don't forget to do my completely irrelevant poll at the bottom!!
Until next time,
Emilie
A Welcome to My World
Hello, All Worldly Things is my outlet, a blog about anything. Mundane things from life itself, to the ever meaningful purpose of life. This is a blog created for my findings however fascinating and dull they may be. I have a goal to blog at least one time a day, up until now my goals have never followed through but hopefully I'll work with this one. I'm Emilie, a simple girl who very few people know. I live in a small town where interesting things are far and few between but I'm sure many people seem to share my quandary, that they feel like life has hit maybe a plateau and are unsure where to go. If you're like me then this blog isn't just for me, it's for you AND me, please post as often and as much as you want and I will talk to you, get to know you then, eventually and inevitably I will love you.
I hit a mid-life crisis at age 18 so..the smart thing to do was take up blogging! I want to start of by showing something personal...but not too personal...I don't know you that well yet!! All of my tabs open on my browser! They tell a lot about people! After all that's why everyone tries to hide them. We should stop the oppression of open tabs and give them a chance to be cool, embarrassing or just stupid! If you're reading this, and, I'm honored if you are please shoot me a comment showing your tabs! It'll be fun..kinda..I promise!!
Now the first one I have is a link to the Kayak I REALLY want to buy but will probably never use.
The Second is an email FILLED with spam that I need to sift through.
The Third is the infamous time waster, Netflix, currently I'm weeping nostalgia and watching Dragon Tales.
Then our mutual friend Facebook..
My empty Paypal account
Some blog I have
Lastly, I have the thesaurus because some words just get old and I can't retain EVERY synynom but I'm still not sure if I used quandary in the right context!
Oh Well! Once again, if you're here you're a true sport and I hope you come back! I would love to hear from you!!
Until next time,
Emilie
I hit a mid-life crisis at age 18 so..the smart thing to do was take up blogging! I want to start of by showing something personal...but not too personal...I don't know you that well yet!! All of my tabs open on my browser! They tell a lot about people! After all that's why everyone tries to hide them. We should stop the oppression of open tabs and give them a chance to be cool, embarrassing or just stupid! If you're reading this, and, I'm honored if you are please shoot me a comment showing your tabs! It'll be fun..kinda..I promise!!
Now the first one I have is a link to the Kayak I REALLY want to buy but will probably never use.
The Second is an email FILLED with spam that I need to sift through.
The Third is the infamous time waster, Netflix, currently I'm weeping nostalgia and watching Dragon Tales.
Then our mutual friend Facebook..
My empty Paypal account
Some blog I have
Lastly, I have the thesaurus because some words just get old and I can't retain EVERY synynom but I'm still not sure if I used quandary in the right context!
Oh Well! Once again, if you're here you're a true sport and I hope you come back! I would love to hear from you!!
Until next time,
Emilie
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